Ichigo could feel his eyes all but jump out of his sockets, and he probably would have stepped back from the coolly smiling man standing before him if not for the unshakeable grasps on his arms, and the ominous presence of the knife by his throat. He couldn't feel its sharp edge against his skin thanks to the scarf, but he was pretty sure a little cloth wouldn't put much resistance if Ulquiorra decided to test it.

So much for his plan. Anger and frustration welled up inside him and he shook off the portion of the forcibly loaned scarf that covered the bottom half of his face; there was no point in hiding anymore.

He should have guessed that someone like Aizen wouldn't be so easily outdone. But even so, he had allowed himself to hope. After Byakuya had ordered his chauffer to station the conspicuous automobile a block away, Ichigo had rushed back on foot to the Hogyoku restaurant, while Byakuya -after some convincing- had stayed nearby, ready to act if anything went wrong.

Ichigo had avoided the front entrance of the uppity restaurant, ducking into the alley that led to the back entrance of the kitchen instead. There, he had waited behind the dumpster until he had nearly turned blue from holding his breath so long, when finally one of the waiters had stepped out of the back door, heaving a couple of overly stuffed bags towards his hiding point. The man had barely had time to toss out the garbage before Ichigo jumped him: he didn't know what hit him. To his unbelievable luck, the man had already been donning the odd scarf to cover his face and the cap that would serve to conceal his own shocking hair; after stripping the unconscious waiter, he could immediately see the reason for such conservative wear: the man's face was gruesomely disfigured. Whether it was an ailment he had suffered from birth or something he had gained in a crueler manner, he didn't know, but he didn't stick around to find out.

Inside the kitchen people had swarmed him with orders and addressed him with a name that sounded like "Aaro-"… something. Taking care to keep his face and hair concealed, he had little choice but to play along with the role, figuring that he could just as well use the chance to scan out the premises and see where Aizen and Rukia were. His lucky streak had seemed to reach its end though, because after going through the entirety of the dining area playing the role of the well-mannered waiter, he hadn't managed to spot either of them anywhere. It was only after what he considered too much time of a crash-course in waiting tables that he finally noticed a couple of waitresses exit the kitchen through a door that was almost strategically hidden in a cluttered corner; while the door was open to allow the girls passage, he got a glimpse of the full table in what appeared to be a closed off room, most likely reserved for private parties. One quick peek later once the waitresses were done delivering the plates of dinner confirmed his suspicion: Aizen was there. And sitting beside him, was Rukia.

Then it had just been a matter of bidding his time; his first instinct had been, of course, to burst in and get her out of there, but that would have made all his stealth useless. So he waited until the opportune moment. He was careful. He was smart about it.

And yet, here he was: arms held behind him and a knife pressed against his throat. And Rukia…

"How'd you know?" Ichigo spoke through gritted teeth in a tightly controlled voice, attempting to keep the looming despair at bay.

Aizen chuckled bemusedly. "I wouldn't have made it to where I am if I lacked the capacity to foresee every possibility and prepare for it." Cunning brown eyes met his glare evenly. "I had been wondering when Gin would take action. No matter. Won't be a problem for long."

Ichigo was sure that if he had eaten anything he would've had to fight down the bile that would have risen at those words. "You bastard." He spat incredulously. "Your own comrade?"

Aizen's smile widened into what would be more accurately described as a full on grin. "How interesting, that you should be the one to pretend to lecture me on camaraderie."

He went cold, his expression turning stony. "You…"

"From your expression, I gather that you did not imagine I might be privy to any of your past endeavors. It's rather amusing that you assumed you were the only one with information." Aizen looked down at him condescendingly. "I know all about you, Ichigo Kurosaki. I have known you since you were a child."

"Wha…" Ichigo's widened eyes narrowed just as quickly. "What the hell are you talking about?" He thrashed against the restraining hands, the blade by his throat forgotten in the heat of rising confusion and anger.

Aizen lifted one silencing finger. "Do not raise your voice, Ichigo." There was but a minimal narrowing of those piercing brown eyes, but the message was clear beneath the placid smile that continued to etch his features. "Honestly, this should not be coming as such a big surprise to you."

"What do you mean?" Ichigo asked, tired of the man's taunting remarks.

"For someone who is out for vengeance, you are astoundingly ignorant." Aizen shook his head as if in regret, or disappointment. Ichigo sneered. "Have you never once asked yourself, why your mother was killed?"

At the explicit mention of his mother, Ichigo shoved with more force at the restraining arms, thinking only of ways to wipe that smug look right off of Aizen's face, but Ulquiorra and the blue-haired guy held strong. "She was murdered by you!" he snarled, a burst of fury both from Aizen's words and his own present helplessness turning his vision red.

"Was she?" Aizen replied, unruffled. "That day, Masaki Kurosaki was not meant to die."

Ichigo began to feel sick. Despite his every cell screaming for him not to listen, something about Aizen's words rang within deep inside and coaxed him to pay attention.

"It was you, Ichigo." Aizen finally said the words that he had already, somehow anticipated, but fought every instinct to accept. "It was always you. Grand Fisher was meant to kill you that day, but she died to protect you. All these years you have been blaming me, but it was you who killed her, in the end."

Ichigo couldn't think. His eyes were wide and staring down at nothing, his breathing was hard and his pulse was rushing in his ears as his heart pounded almost painfully against his ribcage. He wanted to scream, to curse, to run away until his legs gave out and he collapsed, ending what could only be a terrifying nightmare. But as his head spun with rage, grief, and self-hatred, it wasn't his own voice that he heard breaking the silence.

"You're despicable!"

The single, raw accusation shifted all the attention in the room to the small, dark-haired woman who looked tinier than ever in the hold of that boulder of a man, but whose fiery expression -and apparent unawareness of the man caging her- defiantly challenged anyone to cross her. Aizen turned to look at her as the smile dropped from his face, and Ichigo was allowed a better view of the woman. She wasn't looking at him.

"How dare you?" Her usually dark purple eyes seemed to glow a piercing blue-violet as she glared coldly at the man standing between her and Ichigo. "To act so nonchalantly about such horrible crimes, and then,-!" She seemed to hesitate, unable to find words strong enough to describe him. She settled for shaking her head, straightening as well as she could and somehow, despite her height and her position, managing to look down at Aizen. "You're so low."

Ichigo caught sight of a slight twitch of Aizen's mouth, a tear in his façade, but it was almost immediately replaced by a look of practiced indifference nearing sheer boredom as he gave a subtle nod towards Grand Fisher.

"Rukia!" He yelled as he saw Grand Fisher move to slide one thick arm around her suddenly much too fragile neck.

Rukia gagged and she brought her hands up to claw at the choking hold, but from the looks of it she was barely doing more than tickling the currently smiling man. In fact, Ichigo could see his lips curving into a smirk that read of casual enjoyment.

Forgetting everything else, he jumped into motion. He moved faster than he thought himself capable of, and it took his captors a fraction too long to react, allowing him to twist free with nothing but a slightly stinging scrape from the knife that was wielded too slowly. The scarf and cap were discarded in one swift motion and his fist was already pulled back, ready to strike at the man whom he ran to at full speed.

A short clicking sound brought him to a stop in mid-motion. He looked over his shoulder and stared at Ulquiorra, whose eyes showed as much feeling as ever, and who currently held a sleek silver gun leveled at his head. The room seemed to hum with the increased tension with the revelation of the firearm; for a few stretched out seconds, no one moved or said anything. Ichigo was almost certain that no one was even breathing.

"I do not believe Mr. Aizen was quite finished talking." Ulquiorra spoke in what sounded like a bored voice, but the hand aiming the gun was steady.

The skinny, pale man was just as Ichigo remembered him. Cold and emotionless. The man was just as much a walking stone as he had been when he had known him in college. Back then he had only seen the guy once or twice because of his odd (inexplicable, in his opinion) friendship with Orihime; for him, the fewer they met, the better. Then Ulquiorra had just disappeared one day, without warning and seemingly without trace. Orihime had tried endlessly to find a way to contact him, but eventually she'd given up on the seemingly hopeless search.

He might have laughed at the cosmic irony of them meeting up again like this. The humor waned, however, with the knowledge of having a gun pointed at your face.

"Look, Ulquiorra-" He started, resorting diplomacy while his eyes darted back to see Rukia, who was watching the scene with large eyes but seemed unharmed for the moment.

"I don't want to hear it, Kurosaki." There could have been an undercurrent of annoyance in Ulquiorra's voice, but it was hard to tell. He was still for a moment, before he shifted his arm ever so slightly to the side.

Ichigo's whole body went impossibly rigid, his breath coming up short. He turned forward again and his gaze crossed Rukia's. The fear that he saw for the first time in her eyes hit him like a speeding car. He had seen Rukia experience many things, but he had never seen her actually scared. But as he read those impossibly vulnerable eyes, he didn't find what he would have expected to find. There was a desperate quality that was almost unrecognizable in her, yes,

but…

"Run!" Her shout tore through the still atmosphere with gut-wrenching urgency. "Get away, Ichigo!"

That's when the other realization struck him, and it was even worse than the first.

She wasn't scared for herself. She had every right to be; she should have been… But all that was

reflected in those eyes was- himself.

And that shook him to his very core more than anything else had. With the force of that shock, a feeling of focused clarity overcame him.

"Aizen," He spoke in a disturbingly calm voice, keeping his eyes locked on Rukia's pleading orbs for a lingering moment, then turning to the slick-haired man with a set scowl and narrowed eyes. "Let her go. You said yourself before, this is about me. She's got nothing to do with it."

Rukia's instant protests were silenced by Aizen's next statement.

"On the contrary." he said mildly. "Precisely because this is about you, she has everything to do with it. Just like you and Mrs. Kurosaki did all those years ago."

He had been prepared to ignore Aizen's misleading words, but that gave him pause. He could feel the cogwheels in his mind turning, putting two and two together, but the picture that was building up…

"It appears you have figured it out now." Aizen said, watching his changing expression closely. "The real reason your mother died, Ichigo." Aizen let his smile widen fractionally. "It was payment."

-x-

Rukia felt like a lead ball had been dropped on her. If that was the case for her, what Ichigo must have been feeling then, she couldn't begin to describe.

"Ah," Aizen looked at Ichigo approvingly, as if confirming something. "You're not the first Kurosaki to get mixed up in Arrancar business."

"N-No," Ichigo's voice shook, and the sound of it was so unnerving that Rukia winced. "You're lying…"

Beads of sweat ran down Ichigo's face, and his eyes seemed sunken, buried in dark shadows with the force of Aizen's meaning.

"Am I?" Aizen placidly lifted an eyebrow, as if he found Ichigo's reaction a simple curiosity. "You're willing to believe that I'm lying now, even when your every instinct is telling you what you already must have guessed at a long time ago? You're a reporter, you've seen this before and you know it all adds up. Do not attempt to fool yourself."

"No, that can't-"

"But you know in your heart that it is true." Aizen cut in smoothly. "Your mother's life was retribution for the actions of Isshin Kurosaki."

Rukia had to mind herself to keep her jaw from falling wide open.

Isshin Kurosaki. Ichigo's father. The man who had broken into his son's home on a holiday evening and fought him, teased him, yelled boisterously and gotten excited over things that would make most parents cringe. Isshin, with his dramatic cries of anguish and staged tears whenever he was scorned by his son, or equally theatrical tears of joy when his proclaimed 'third daughter' played along with his antics.

Isshin, whom she had only met once but who had given her the warm family welcome that she had longed for most of her life without question.

"Don't listen to him, Ichigo!" She broke into the silence that followed the revelation, eyes focused on Ichigo with all the intensity that she could muster into one look: don't waver, Ichigo; don't let him shake you. "Whatever this man says, he is only manipulating things as he likes!"

Aizen turned his attention to her again, looking at her like she was a tiresome pebble in his shoe. "You're quite the naïve little thing, aren't you? Do you truly believe these people incapable of doing wrong?" He gave a slight shake of the head, and, she suspected, had he been the type to, he might have rolled his eyes then. Instead, he only looked straight at her. "Did you think I was lying, when I told you about the circumstances of Ichigo's rather early retirement from the police force?"

Rukia did not immediately turn her gaze away from Aizen's, but from the corner of her eye she could still see Ichigo tense, and his eyes seeking her out. She complied and met his gaze for only a fleeting moment, but it was enough: she saw the emotions swimming in their depths. Pain, guilt, sadness… But most of all, she saw the eyes of a scared boy.

Forcibly ignoring the twisting sensation in her chest, she moved her attention back to Aizen, who seemed to have taken her lack of response as an answer in itself.

"How laughable." He remarked. "Or, should I say, pitiful."

"You're wrong." Rukia replied evenly, as if she wasn't in a room surrounded and being held by notorious -and most likely armed- gang members; as if there wasn't a gun aimed at her forehead. She had the pleasure of seeing Aizen's eyes widen a fraction at her boldness, and it served to spurr her on. Keeping her chin up and her shoulders squared as best as she could manage while caged in the abnormally huge arms, she continued. "That's not what I believe. It's not a matter of not committing wrongs."

In her peripheral vision, she could see that Ichigo was holding on to her words like a drowning man waiting to see if he would be given a boat to rescue him or a dooming anchor. Speaking as much for Aizen's benefit as for his, she said, "It's about the person's heart. Whatever darkness there lies within someone, whatever sins they've committed… As long as their heart remains uncorrupted, then it is alright." She allowed her gaze to flash back to Ichigo's before concluding. "That is strength."

Ichigo's eyes seemed to turn lighter at this, like the foggy darkness was lifted and revealed a hazel color: burning with determination once more. All at once, she felt lighter, and even felt the corners of her mouth curling upwards before the reality of the situation came rushing back with terrifying speed.

"Enough." Aizen declared at last.

Time seemed to slow down after he spoke for Rukia. For one unreal moment, she was vividly aware of everything: Grand Fisher's tall form pressed against her back and his hot breath fanning too close to the top of her head, his arms like stone around her torso but letting up just a bit; Grimmjow shifting ever so subtly into a position with the slightest flexing of the knees, his eyes focused on Ichigo and his arms starting to come up; the soft, sliding sound of chairs being pushed back with careful slowness as the occupants around the table prepared to stand; the downwards curve of Aizen's lips, indicating a grimace that showed clearly in a flash of brown eyes; Ichigo's eyes darting to the brown-haired speaker then back to her, with his intent displayed clearly for her to read in that long, preceding moment.

And she saw the green-eyed man -Ulquiorra's- finger inch towards the trigger of the polished pistol.

"I believe the time for conversing is over." Aizen announced. "Ulquiorra."

There was barely time to register the black-haired male's nod before hell broke loose. Everything burst into motion simultaneously, and Rukia acted in the midst of the chaos on primal instinct. As the people stood from the table and rushed around it, Grimmjow pounced to where Ichigo had stood a second before, Aizen retreated towards the door that led back to the kitchen, Ichigo broke into a run in her direction, and she twisted her slender frame enough so that she could sink her teeth viciously into the sun-browned skin of Grand Fisher's large hand.

While he did not let his arms fall open at her action, the man was still startled and his hold loosened just enough that she could slip her tiny frame through while the element of surprise was on her side. She dropped to the floor and rolled back to her feet almost as quickly, a single word tearing itself from her throat with excruciating weight while her feet worked in the opposite direction as the orange-haired man's.

"Ichigo!"

Her scream was accompanied by the loud pop that she had only ever heard in movies before, and before she had a chance to do change her course, Ichigo slammed into her so hard she felt the air knocked out of her, but he did not let that slow them down as he followed the momentum, while she hastily grabbed a hold of the man so that she could twist their bodies around until she was between him and Ulquiorra, even as they tumbled downwards. They crashed on the floor in an unceremonious heap, and she wasted no time shooting up onto her hands and knees to look down at Ichigo.

Everything around them disappeared and she felt the world tilt, her breath hitching when she saw his face twisted in evident pain. "I-Ichigo!" Frantically, she moved to untangle herself from him and kneel beside him. Her eyes darted up and down his form searching for the wound that she had been too slow to prevent, even as she gathered her arms around him to partially lift him off the floor and to her lap as best as she could.

She found the clean hole on the chest of his borrowed uniform but a moment later, and the sound that escaped her was like that of someone being strangled.

"S'alright." Ichigo slurred, the sound of his voice jolting her to look back up at him as her hand came to rest over the torn fabric on his chest.

Words died in her throat as Ichigo's face came in and out of focus, her vision being glazed over by tears that she furiously held back; because crying meant acknowledgement. If she cried, she would be accepting that he…

She did not let the tears fall.

"Rukia," Ichigo gritted out, his brow deeply furrowed in a grimace as he attempted to lift himself up further. "I'm fine."

"Shut up!" She finally yelled, feeling each of his pained assurances pierce a new wound into her chest.

"Rukia," Ichigo said more sharply, this time looking up so that his eyes could meet hers. Then she felt his hand come over hers where it lay on his chest, and with a gentle, but firm hold, he moved her hand away and simply said, "Look."

Despite her reluctance to see the undoubtedly fatal wound, the look in his eyes made her assent. Upon seeing the hole again, she was about to yell at him again, but then something registered: the opening was still clean. There was no crimson substance spreading over the pristine white of his waiter getup, no sign of the blood that should have indicated the severity of the injury.

"Wha-?"

Her eyes could only widen as Ichigo moved his hand away from hers and used it to forcefully tear open the top of his uniform, the few upper buttons flying easily off and clattering on the floor. And there she saw, peeking beneath the loaned clothes, the thick black material that had been protecting his torso. It took her a moment to recognize it, and she gaped when she did. "A-"

"Bullet proof vest." Ichigo finished before her, still breathing hard but relaxing as she finally understood. There was a hint of a grin on his lips as he closed his eyes fell limp in her arms. "I'm not that stupid."

There was a moment in which all she could do was blink as her mind caught up, and then…

"You idiot!"

Ichigo's calm exterior vanished as the breath wheezed out of him from the tiny fist that struck his gut, followed by those charming words that he was so used to hearing. "Gah! What are you-?"

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Rukia glared down at him, feeling the rush of emotions hurtling inside him focus itself into a torrent of anger concentrated on the man in her arms.

"What?" He screeched incredulously. "It's not like I could just walk in here and advertise it! That kinda goes against the whole point!"

"You inconsiderate fool! I should just-!" Kill you. Kiss you. Hold you and never let go.

She didn't say any of those things, though she felt the desire to do all of them so strongly that she ached with it. Even so, Ichigo must have gotten the gist of it because his eyes suddenly softened, and all she could do was look away before those tears escaped her.

"Rukia…"

Whatever Ichigo was going to say was lost as a grumbling voice reminded them of the presence of the others in the room.

"How touching." Grand Fisher looked down at them with a sneer twisting his ragged features. He looked over at Ulquiorra then. "I think it's time to cut this short before that dinner comes back up on me."

Rukia's heart began pounding wildly in her chest and her arms tightened protectively around Ichigo's dangerously vulnerable form as she looked around and noticed, for the first time, that they were surrounded. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra stood behind them, Grand Fisher before them, and the other dinner guests -the dark-skinned blonde, the pink-haired man with glasses, and a tall slender man with slits for eyes and sleek black hair that fell to his shoulders- had taken positions to form a circle around the two on the floor. Bulletproof vest or not, they were sitting ducks. Helpless.

She stared down the barrel of the gun in Ulquiorra's hand but a moment later. While mentally accepting her inevitable fate, and praying that Ichigo would be spared with her disposal, she barely registered the sound of his very voice calling the green-eyed man's name in a low growl.

"Isn't there even a trace of humanity left in you?" Ichigo stared up at the man with a fierceness that was too strong, too hopeful. She didn't understand why, couldn't hope to figure it out -much less in that moment-, but all questions fled from her mind when she saw the stoic man's body twitch as if to move a step back, and his arm -stretched out and ready to fire- sag the slightest bit. Did she imagine the hesitation in those depthless green eyes?

The hope that blossomed, unbidden, at that was crushed too quickly.

"Oh what the hell's going on?" Grand Fisher burst. "This is taking too long, I'll handle it myself."

Rukia found herself having to use her hold on Ichigo to push him down as he violently tried to lift himself up, all the while keeping her eyes fixed on the wanted criminal approaching with deliberate slowness. A grin was pulling his lips into a smile that showcased too many teeth for it to be any sort of a comforting expression, as he settled his gaze on her.

"Now, who should I start with?" The man mused, standing imposingly over them as his eyes raked her form. "I think I'll try you out first, girlie. Women have always been my favorite."

"You-!" She barely had a chance to pull Ichigo back as he heaved himself up, ready to launch himself on the laughing man before a new, unexpected voice interrupted in a tone that could have melted stone, and that Rukia knew well.

"That will not be necessary."

The room's occupants all whirled to see the man that just strode in through the door that led to the main area of the restaurant. Ebony hair that fell elegantly over shoulders dressed in the finest suit, gray eyes that glinted like cold steel a regal aura that shrouded him like a cloak…

"Brother!" Rukia cried in utter shock, and the last man she ever expected to see there calmly met her eyes. In their silver depths, she could see contained emotion that nevertheless made her swallow.

"I don't know who the hell you are," Grand Fisher interrupted their abrupt reunion. "But you pranced into the wrong place by yourself, pretty boy."

Byakuya directed one of his hardest looks at the man, and Rukia was struck by a mixture of fear for her brother and admiration at his ability to look intimidating regardless of circumstance. "By myself? I do not recall ever saying that I came here alone."

As if on cue, the door behind him as well as the one that led to the kitchen burst open with one -no, two; no, three men clad in police uniform each.

"Freeze." Said another man, who entered through the kitchen's door after the other officers had stormed inside like a whirlwind and each taken up a place behind Mr. Aizen's allies, guns pressing against their backs and leaving them no room to escape; all while Rukia still tried to catch on to what was happening with little success.

"Chad!" Ichigo was the one to exclaim this time as he saw the last man to arrive. He was a towering male with skin just a little darker than that of Grand Fisher and a mop of dark brown hair that fell over one eye; he wasn't dressed in the blue police uniform, but in one hand he held up a badge clearly displaying his position. With his other hand, he flashed Ichigo an old-fashioned thumbs-up that made Rukia look at the officer questioningly. Ichigo, presumably used to such a gesture from the man, seemed unperturbed. "How did you know-?" As if answering his own question, the only mildly shocked orange-haired man turned back to look at Byakuya.

The regal man shook his head. "The authorities had already been alerted by the time I called."

"Then who-?" Ichigo, at last, had the decency to look as confused as Rukia felt.

The man called Chad was the one to answer. "The call came from… An old friend."

Ichigo's frown only deepened at this, but Chad did not look like he was about to expand on his explanation anytime soon.

A thousand questions stormed through Rukia's mind at the apparently mysterious call to the police department, at her brother's involvement, at the fact that Ichigo barely registered any surprise on his face at the sight of Byakuya, and… "Wait!" Her thoughts came to a screeching halt as she remembered the one most important thing. "Aizen! He snuck out through the kitchen, he's-"

"Already apprehended." Byakuya broke in coolly.

"Wh- By who?" Ichigo asked now, looking around the area as if expecting the one responsible to make a surprise entrance like Byakuya and Chad.

Chad only smiled. "You'll see."

-x-

Chad had always been a cryptic guy. Whether it was accidental or intended, Ichigo couldn't tell for sure, but his long-time friend just had a knack for leaving people in suspense. So he knew that prodding the man for a concrete answer would be as useful as trying to get the answer from a wall.

For that reason, Ichigo bit back his curiosity long enough for the policemen to clear out with their new convicts, and once things had settled he -leaning a bit on Rukia for support, despite his initial protests that he was perfectly fine- followed Chad and Byakuya out to the street in front of the Hogyoku and into the light rain that had begun to fall. They were greeted by the

red and blue lights of multiple police cars stationed outside, as well as a couple of ambulances that seemed to be there as insurance. He quickly scanned the street, mostly empty of curious by passers thanks to the time and the cold drizzle, and saw the roughly half dozen Arrancar members that had been present for the night be loaded in threes into the backs of the police cars by bored looking officers who halfheartedly recited their rights to them.

Off to the right, he could see two well-built men loading up Grand Fisher into a single car, their expressions a bit shaky even when the large man was handcuffed and theoretically harmless. The man's dark beady eyes caught Ichigo's in a flash as he was lowered into the backseat. His thick lips etched upwards with sickening slowness, and his unnerving grin was the last thing Ichigo saw of him before he disappeared within the vehicle.

The man who had killed his mother. He'd had him so close; a chance like that one would probably never present itself again. Was he really doing the right thing just standing by?

Almost as if sensing the darkening trail of his thoughts, probably by his newly tensed frame, Rukia nudged his side gently and he brought his gaze down to hers. There was an almost imperceptible shake of her head, but it was enough for him to understand. He exhaled, releasing some of that tension, albeit reluctantly, and starting to pull the woman at his side closer before he was halted by the feeling of someone's eyes on him. Looking over Rukia, he met the gray eyes of the elder Kuchiki standing some few yards away with a black umbrella in hand already, looking from him to his sister.

With a sigh, Ichigo pushed Rukia gently away, holding her at arm's length and motioning behind her towards her brother. She caught on quick, and started to step back before giving him a look that he had learned to recognize as worry for him. Shaking his head, he said for the umpteenth time, "I'm fine, Rukia."

He gave her a smirk, and though she didn't look completely satisfied, she eventually nodded and walked off to meet with her brother. His smirk softened as he watched the siblings interact; though he couldn't hear their conversation, it was enough to look at their eyes to feel the warmth between them for once.

"My boy, it looks like you made it in one piece!"

Abruptly startled out of his thoughts, Ichigo whirled around -flinching a bit at the lingering pain from the bullet that, despite not actually piercing him, would still be leaving quite the bruise, he guessed- and faced yet another shock for a day of never-ending surprises.

Leaning against one of the police cars to their left, with one foot propped against the side door and his arms folded casually over his chest, none other than Isshin Kurosaki was staring back at him with a grin.

"Dad?" Ichigo's voice echoed with disbelief, and he felt like he was in a daze as the older man pushed himself off his comfortable position and moved towards him with uncharacteristic tranquility.

"The one and only." He replied, before- "Bet you're pretty shocked and amazed to see me here!"

He almost rolled his eyes at the return of his demeanor. While he'd never actually verbalize it, it nevertheless brought a sense of comfort to him. But as he rolled his eyes, he thought he caught sight of a certain silhouette shadowed behind the glass windows of the car that his dad had been resting against, and realization struck him like a kick.

"You!" He looked at his father with nearly bulging eyes. "You caught Aizen?"

The jovial manner slipped off his father's features and a rare, somber look replaced it. "Got here as soon as I got Kisuke's call."

"Urahara?" Ichigo blinked in surprise, before recalling Chad's words. 'An old friend', he'd said. "It was him." He marveled, shaking his head. The old restaurant owner must have realized something was amiss after getting his call asking for Rukia's whereabouts.

Even so…

"I know you've got a lot of questions, son." His dad said before he could. "I'll answer them as best as I can eventually, but right now…" He glanced off to where Chad stood next to a serious looking white-haired man that looked barely past middle-aged. Ichigo recognized him as the chief of police, Ryuuken Ishida; Uryuu's dad. The bespectacled man was currently looking at his own dad, blue eyes glinting sharply behind the lenses expectantly. "I think my old partner wants to discuss a few things."

Ichigo stared blankly. "Partner…?"

Isshin shoved his hands into his pockets and avoided Ichigo's eyes almost bashfully. "Back in my days in uniform. Way before you were born." Upon seeing his expression, the dark-haired man huffed and his eyebrows knitted closer in an eerily familiar fashion. "Damn, I could use a smoke right about now."

"Hang on," Ichigo shook himself out of his stupor. "You're saying…"

"Later." His father spoke mildly as he patted a heavy hand against his scrawnier shoulder, but the look in his dark eyes was stern. Ichigo finally complied, and watched his father walk away with rising confusion, but swallowing back his protests for the time being.

There was little he understood about the way things had turned out; but even so, he thought as he looked to the car where he could imagine Aizen looking darkly back at him, then over to the one where he could still picture Grand Fisher smiling, it had worked out in the end.

Then why did he still feel that old heaviness in his chest?

"Ichigo."

He turned to see Rukia had reappeared at his side, looking smaller than he remembered wrapped up in the expensive suit jacket that Byakuya had worn, and staring at him with deep purple eyes, almost blue in the night.

Right then he remembered that he wasn't the only one with questions after that evening.

"Aren't you going to ask?," he spoke thickly, having to gulp to clear his throat from closing up as he saw her face change with his question. "What Aizen told you about me, about my time in the Police Academy…" The words seemed to get lodged in his throat, and he swallowed once more before averting his eyes from Rukia's penetrating violets as he took in a deep breath. "I don't know how much he said but, there are some things… I should have told you before. I-"

"Stop." Rukia's voice, together with the hand she placed on his arm, was firm, but still gentle. When he looked back to her eyes, they held a kind expression beneath her strong façade. "I won't ask. If you haven't told me, you have your reasons, and it must be a wound that hasn't closed yet. I have no way of asking without rubbing salt into that wound." She granted him a small, but sincere smile. "So I'll wait until you're ready to tell me, if you want to tell me. You have nothing to prove to me, Ichigo."

He wasn't sure if it was her words, or her understanding smile, or the unshakeable trust reflected in her eyes… But he felt his heart lifting as he looked at her.

And pulling from that security that he felt from her, he said, "I am ready." He took a deep breath before starting to speak the words he had never felt comfortable enough to ever say before. "I was almost ready to graduate from the Academy, back then. My partner and I had been out on field training. Her name was Senna."

Rukia listened intently, not interrupting him or looking away, but keeping her reassuring hand on his arm the entire time. The words spilled from his lips like a long-awaited confession.

"While we were out, the officers with us got a call about a store hold-up nearby, saying that some kids were being held hostage." He recalled the day in a mixture of images of vague quality and selective instances of sharp clarity. "We were told to stay put. I didn't listen. Senna followed me." His heart pounded harder in his chest as his body seemed to recall those moments of rushing adrenaline and recklessness. "Things went wrong and, she… She tried to protect me, I think. She was hurt, badly."

He had to close his eyes to fight the torrent of guilt that would always come when he lingered on the day that led to him dropping out of the Academy, and when he opened them he found himself looking into Rukia's eyes. He saw no accusation there, no anger or disgust. Not even pity. There was only… comprehension.

He sighed as he recounted the rest. "She survived, but she was never the same again." At Rukia's questioning look, he added in a self-explanatory manner, "Amnesia."

"Did you ever speak to her again?" Rukia asked, genuine curiosity lacing her voice.

He nodded. "She didn't know me, of course. But she said she forgave me." His eyes became unfocused at the oddly distant memory.

Rukia's brow was creased, and she looked puzzled. Before he could ask why, she spoke in a tone that was merely stating a fact. "But you still haven't forgiven yourself."

Ichigo stood up a little straighter at that, ready to deny it on sheer reflex before the true insight of her declaration rendered him speechless. That lingering heaviness in chest… Thoughts of Senna, of Chad on a hospital bed, of his mother… He had always thought that bringing Aizen and Grand Fisher to justice would bring him the peace he sought. But here he was, and after obtaining what he had thought he'd always wanted, he was still plagued by the same demons.

While he was deep in thought, Rukia took the moment to fist one hand into the increasingly moist fabric of his ruined shirt and pull herself up to surprise him with the light press of her lips against his own in a cool, wet kiss that somehow still managed to be deeply warm.

"I think my brother is calling for me." Rukia announced suddenly after pulling back too quickly; her subtlety was quite lacking as she started to move around him, but not before giving his arm a quick squeeze and flashing him another smile. "I'll see you, Ichigo." Then she left him by himself, and he knew what she was telling him. They both understood what he needed to do.

So it was with that conversation in mind and the fresh memory of her kiss that he found himself walking up to the car where Aizen was holed up and opening the door to sit next to the handcuffed man. He looked at Ichigo with an expression that could have been thought to be blank, but he saw the flash of anger in those light brown eyes before the man had a chance to look away and cover it.

"Come to gloat, Ichigo Kurosaki?" Aizen spoke whilst looking ahead, gaze piercing through the glass that separated them from the unoccupied front seat. "I suppose you believe you have won now, but you forget-"

"Save it, Aizen." Ichigo interrupted calmly, all the explosiveness that usually overtook him when in the older man's presence mysteriously absent. "I didn't come here for anything like that. I've just been thinking." He hesitated only a moment, before deciding to cut to the chase and throw away his inhibitions. "It's been over ten years since what happened to my mom…" He could feel the man's eyes on him, but he did not bother to look and gauge his expression as he let the words form on his lips as if he were only speaking to himself; a conversation that was long overdue. "Whether it was your fault, or Grand Fisher's, or mine…" He paused, then added, "Or my dad's. I don't know. Even if I did, it wouldn't bring her back. All I know is, she wouldn't want me to go around carrying a grudge against anyone. That's not the kind of person she was. It took me all this time to figure it out but, I think the best I can do is try to do what she'd wanted. To do what she would have done, if only to honor her memory."

Aizen was silent, but his attention was fully on Ichigo as the younger one of them closed his eyes and inhaled slowly.

"What I'm getting at is, that is, what she would have said…" Opening his eyes, he looked at the man whom he had hated for so long, and for the first time, he felt nothing towards the man, save for pity. His next words, to his own surprise, were unfailingly honest.

"Aizen… I forgive you."

-x-

When Ichigo stepped out into the night after that, he was greeted by a soft smile and glinting violet eyes. After a moment, he realized that the rain had stopped falling.

A/N: Surprise! Early update :D This chapter was actually originally part of the last chapter, I only split them into two, hence why such a fast update. Still counts though, right? Ah, well. One more chapter to go. My feelings...

MushroomNatsu, OnepieceX3, Poisonfish, Cisusi, KurosakiCrystal18, pamianime, novicestar, SuperRukia, SamanthaEscalante, anon, shnizlefritz, indescribable music, Shaybo27, KitElizaKing, chineschopsticks, Mokimoki-chan, and acingLoveEmbracingMelody:
thank you all for the reviews! And thanks to Cisusi for pointing out my mistake last chapter; I mixed up Loly and Menoly. So, I apologize greatly for that! (Damn it I knew I always confuse them! I can't be the only one!)

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Look forward to the next, and final chapter of SoaG, coming soon!